The Evolution of Things that Go Bump (In the Middle of the Night)

When I was little,

I used to be afraid of

the dark.

I was afraid of all kinds of things:

spiders,

vampires,

snakes, and

too many presents on Christmas.

Things were easier then.

Things were much easier then.

 

In high school,

presents and vampires were

replaced

by, worse things, like

alcoholism and

addiction.

Dark alleys and

highways.

Fear was less tangible,

less preventable.

It was

abstractions and

feelings.

It joined hand-in-hand with sadness.

Nostalgia.

 

It’s different,

now.

It’s failure.

It’s abandonment.

It’s commitment.

It’s a

twisting and

turning evolution of

consequences and

disagreements.

It’s the truth.

It’s a lie.

It’s a haunted story that won’t go away because

suddenly,

you wake up one day, and

it’s you.

This poem is about: 
Me

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